


Lost and Found

by offictim



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Both Connie and Steven are 18 years old, Break Up, F/M, Making Out, Rebounding, Steven is unaware of how terrible he's being
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2020-10-19 00:40:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20648360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/offictim/pseuds/offictim
Summary: Connie breaks up with Steven. Distraught, Steven looks to Spinel for comfort.





	1. The Breakup

"It's 4 o'clock in the Keystone State, and what a beautiful afternoon it is. With the temperature staying an even 89 degrees, there's-"

** _Flick_ **

“Don't cry Sunny! We finally stopped the evil Milkshake Crew! We're all finally free-"

** _Flick_ **

“From the moment the meat hits the grill-”  
  
  
** _Flick_ **

Static.

A remote tossed half-heartedly at the TV drops to the floor with a hard thud.

Letting out a subdued sigh, Steven flops onto his bed, his back landing on a strewn pillow, already beginning to feel the placidity of the day seep into his bones.

Another day of doing absolutely nothing. No thrills, no surprises, no missions: everything totally in order - and why wouldn't it be? What with him saving the universe and all.

To think of all the missions he’d been on, just waiting to get home and rest, just like this, - relaxed, enveloped in the warm light of the day, enjoying the soft crashing of the tide outside. 

But today, the stillness of the beach house only feels like a heavy weight on his chest, pushing him deeper into his somber state. Sighing, he turns over to his side, facing the sparingly adorned wall. His phone sits blankly to his left, dark and listless.

Still no text from Connie.

It's been 3 weeks since he last saw his girlfriend - just days after her high school graduation. She'd invited him to a small bonfire at the beach to celebrate; just a couple of classmates and old friends, sure, but what a night. They spent hours laughing, dancing, clinking together a few miscellaneous drinks ("Don't mention this to Pearl" she winked at him). His face flushes a pale pink as he recalls the way she swayed in the moonlight to the wild beat of the stereo, her figure engulfed in a bright, blazing yellow. She was breathtaking, intelligent, funny, and most importantly of all, his best friend. He had been waiting apprehensively for summer to arrive - no school meant more time to spend together, and oh, how patient he’d been.

He scoffed at himself, _Heck yeah I’ve been patient_. After all, it’d already been 2 weeks since she last called him. They'd made it a habit before - just a small 30 minute phone call after tennis practice; she'd finally been made varsity captain and enjoyed chatting to him about recent meets. "Our teams getting better every day!" she'd say excitedly, and god, didn't the cheery timbre in her voice make his heart sing and his head fuzzy. But now school was officially over, tennis season had ended, and her days had been far less scheduled.

“It’s no big deal,” he’d assure himself, “her parents are probably all over her right now, I’ll just give her some space and things’ll be back to normal.” He’d recalled how emotional her parents had been at graduation, her father almost full-on sobbing during Connie’s valedictorian speech (“Did I say it right?” he’d asked her shyly). They’d already made plans to visit her various uncles and cousins throughout the state - even mentioning a trip abroad. (“It is all kind of overwhelming for them, Steven,” she confided to him, “I am technically their first kid to graduate - even if I am an only child”.)

All that, he could understand. But now, he couldn’t help but feel worried. It had, after all, been a week since he'd last gotten a message from Connie.

They hadn’t gone that long without texting each other since-

Well, since he was fourteen, and he’d made the mistake of shutting her out of his life. He was lucky enough to fix that situation and make it out feeling closer than ever to her, but now he couldn’t help but wonder.  
  
“Did I do something wrong?”  
  
He shifts onto his stomach now, hands rising to cup his face, unlocking his phone to yet another blank screen. The time burns a crisp 5:03 PM. He lets out a small whine at this. Why did he feel like this? They were adults now, he should handle being on his own. At this rate, he’ll never survive Connie going off to university. 

She’d told him the minute she’d gotten the letter.   
  


“I got in, Steven!” she’d gushed to him, “I knew my application was for early admission but I didn’t know it’d come  _ that _ quickly!”. That was months ago now, she’d been so happy that day, the vivid memory of her giddy smile and shimmering eyes had burned fiercely into his mind. He hadn’t been exactly sure what was so great about college, or education in general, but anything that brought that glint of joy in her glance had to be incredible. The only issue was that she’d be moving across the country.

“You’re leaving?” he’d squeaked, shoulders drooping at the news. Her beaming face faltered a second, expression betraying a touch of uncertainty.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she’d comforted him, running her hands soothingly over his own, “It’s not like I’ll be gone forever, besides, we can always video chat…”. He exhaled a breath he didn’t recall holding. Everything would be fine, just as long as they had each other.

“I’m worrying too much” he groaned, she had to be busy, she would never leave him hanging like this if it wasn’t for something important. But she could have at least warned him ahead of time. He glanced outside, the sun already starting to wane towards the west. He’d been moping around long enough, he thought, pushing himself off his comforter. Slipping into his scuffed, rosy sandals, he turned off the buzzing television and headed towards the stairs.

“I wonder what Amethyst is up to-”

** _Ping!_ **

The shrill tone rang out from the corner of his bed.

** _WHOOMPF!_ **

He’s already pounced onto the blinking smartphone, smashing in his pass code with tense fingers and tearing into the bright words.

[Connie:

Hey, Steven. I’m sorry I haven’t been talking to you much lately. I’ve had a lot on my mind, and I think we should talk in person. Can you meet me by the lighthouse?]   
  
Read: Today, 5:25 PM

His heart flutters at this. Connie wants to see him right now? He looks down at himself, all day old clothing and  _ Chaaaps! _ crumbs.

[Of course! I’ll be right there]

Read: Today, 5:26 PM

Taking the time to change into a new outfit and combing a few digits through his hair, he barrels down the stairs into the living room. His stomach gurgles in protest as he takes a quick glimpse at the kitchen (has he really not eaten today?).

“No time” he reminds himself, body halfway out the door, mind already in his girlfriend’s warm embrace. He looks up at the lighthouse sat plainly atop the temple. It’s definitely not the highest jump he’s made, but it’s a feat nonetheless. Taking a running start, he hurls himself forward, sand crunching under his sandals as he launches himself ever higher, wind rustling the thin fabric of his jacket as he zips through the air. Landing gracefully onto the soft grass of the cliff side, he allows himself a moment to catch his breath and admire the view. 

It was here, two years ago, where a heartbroken gem landed on her enormous, pink, fluorescent contraption and threatened his friends and planet. Small and bouncy with a crackling energy, she had swooped down and injected the earth with an irradiated sludge, sparing no time to incapacitate the long out-of-service Crystal Gems, and devastate his carefully honed powers.

But that was two years ago. Spinel, as he later found out she was called, has been living in the palace on Homeworld now with his three fellow diamonds, White, Blue, and Yellow. Everything had clicked so well into place, and he was grateful for the painlessness of it all. More importantly, he was thankful that he was no longer responsible for anyone’s personal torment or emotional vulnerabilities. It was just him, his relatively well-adjusted family, and Connie. No drama, and especially no fighting.

He’s torn away from his thoughts at the sound of light footsteps and rustling.

“Connie!” he yells out excitedly, arms extended, waiting to hold her. She approaches him meekly, greeting him with a minor wave, decidedly keeping a short distance from him. He lowers his arms nonchalantly.  _ No big deal,  _ he thinks to himself, ignoring the skip in his heartbeat.

“Hi Steven, I’m glad you came,” she began, “I...really need to talk to you - there’s something important I need to tell you”. She’s anxious, shifting from side to side, fingers fidgeting together and apart. Steven doesn’t ask her about it, waiting apprehensively for her to continue.

“Things have been changing so quickly...,” she proceeds, “I mean, I actually graduated high school, I turned eighteen, I’m heading off to college in a few weeks…” she trails off, gaze stubbornly fixated on the distant ocean. She's stalling, she knows this. Her face grows hot, eyes becoming shiny with tears.

“I really like you, and I know this is sudden, and I’m so, so sorry, but I can’t keep dragging this out, I can’t - We can’t”, and she’s hiccuping now, choking on her words. He shoots her a concerned look, hands moving to brush her hair behind her ear, wanting to calm her quickening gasps. 

“Hey, it’s okay. Whatever it is, I’m here for you,” he murmurs tenderly, cupping her face closer to his own, “We’ll get through this-”, and all at once she can’t bear to look at him.

“I'm breaking up with you!” she blurts out to him, surprised at her own volume. Steven gapes at her, the words slowly registering in his shock.

“What- what do you mean?” the words had hit him like a ton of bricks; time stands still and his heart isn’t beating. He’s watching her mouth carefully, trying to understand the noise escaping from her chewed lips, but all he can manage is the booming rumble of the waves below. Tears flood down her cheeks and she’s backing away now, turning her back to flee, when a stripe of pink flies out towards her.

“Steven?” her eyes widen, staring down at the hopeless palm curled around her wrist. He’s trembling now, brows furrowed together, struggling to articulate himself.

“Connie, wait!” he begs, eyes frantically searching for an answer, “I don’t understand, did I - did I do something wrong?” The world is crashing down around him, and there’s no piecing it back together. His grip tightens unconsciously, thoughts racing desperately for a solution. He can change this, everything’s fine, they’ll talk a bit more and-

“Steven, please let me go!” she yelps out in surprise. She tugs away, trying to free herself, but her efforts are fruitless. His hand has clasped firmly down on her burning forearm and she can feel a dull tide of pain begin to pulsate down her cuff. Struggling to contain a whimper, she blinks away tears. She hadn’t meant for this to happen like this, but there’s no turning back now. 

“Just stay a little longer, please?” he asks her, knees finally giving out beneath him, “We can talk - let’s just talk”. His lips curl into a small, pleading smile as she yanks her hand from out of his grip, the force hurling her backwards into the wet grass. Scrambling onto shaky legs, she reflexively cradles her wrist. She looks at him fearfully, and he looks down at his quivering hands.  _ What did he just do? _

“I have to go,” she whispers, dashing away, turning to look back one last time before disappearing under the hill. 

“Connie - wait!” he cries after her, wanting to pursue her but finding his legs glued to the earth, “I’m sorry!”. Hands dropping to the ground, his eyes bore a hole into the muddy blades beneath him. He staggers to his feet and remains still for a moment.  _ She’ll come back - she has to come back, he’ll just have to wait.  _ She probably just panicked, soon enough she’ll be knocking at his door, reminding him that everything’s alright. He just needs to get home.

He stumbles down the edge of the cliff side, landing haphazardly amidst smooth boulders and loose sand. He almost reaches the bottom when he loses his footing and falls straight onto a dune. His arms fly forward to catch himself, feeling the unforgiving terrain scrape against his skin and jeans. He’s choking out his pain now, giving into the grief rocking his very core, voice undulating to every swell of his broken heart. Curling inwardly, he turns over and buries his cheek into the warm shore. 

Time passes, but he barely notices; the only reminder being the slowly encroaching darkness of twilight. He finds himself sat upon a small field of flowers. Dragging himself onto his feet, he begins to slump towards the beach house, climbing up the small set of stairs and casting himself onto his unkempt bed. His eyes swollen and mouth dry, he closes his eyes and hopes for relief from the emptiness. He doesn’t sleep.

_ She’ll be back any second now. _

_ I just need to be patient. _


	2. Full Disclosure (I miss you)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steven sinks into a depression after the breakup. The crystal gems can't relate. He remembers someone who can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for being patient guys! next chapter should be more fluffy

Days pass, and there’s no sign of Connie coming back any time soon. The hole in Steven’s chest tightens as he thumbs through their old messages, finally reaching the barrage of texts sat plainly at the bottom.

[Connie, can you please answer my calls? Just talk to me]

[I don’t know what I did wrong, can you at least give me a reason?]

[Did you get my voicemail? I really need you to get back to me]

** _ Sent | Tuesday, July 9th_ **

____________________

[Barb came around this morning, I asked her if she’d seen you around but she said she hasn’t. How have you been?]

[Yeah, I ordered this new guitar case a while ago - I got it off the Spirit Morph website! It has Archimicarus on the front, wanna see?]

**_Attachment: 1 Photo_**

[Anyways, tried calling again today, did you get a new landline? We should hang out sometime, we can watch the new Sadie Killer and the Suspects video]

** _ Sent | Wednesday, July 10th_ **

____________________

[Thought I got a call from you earlier, it was just my Dad though. I haven’t been helping out at the car wash lately and he’s wondering where I went lol. What have you been up to?]

** _ Sent | Yesterday, 1:30 PM_ **

[Okay, well, get back to me soon I guess]

** _ Sent | Yesterday, 10:56 PM_ **

____________________

[I miss you so much]

** _ Message not Sent (!) | Today, 3:14 AM | Resend?_ **

“He hasn’t left the house in days,” he hears Pearl murmur, her soft whisper tinkling from the living room below, “hasn’t bathed, hasn’t even been eating properly…”. She eyed the two gems huddled around her, a concerned frown weighing down her expression. It had started so abruptly; one day they were laughing among the crowds on the boardwalk, and the next, he had refused to acknowledge anything but his phone. She’d been keeping a close eye on him, awaiting him in the kitchen every morning; cringing at the spotted, mushy remains of the fruit bowl, the loaf of bread she had tucked snugly above the fridge painted turquoise with mold. She glanced at the plates stacked at the end of his bed, stubbornly searching for evidence of more than a sparse nibble. A cool breeze slipping in from the sliding door she’d insisted on cracking open each morning.

“Steven’s obviously going through something difficult,” Garnet asserts,”we just need to be patient and supportive”. She’d decided to keep a short distance from him, understanding the importance of introspection, but hanging around in solidarity.

Amethyst groans at this, “How much longer is he going to be mopey?”. No stranger to depressive episodes herself, Amethyst had tried everything she could think of to lift him out of his rut. She’d given him plenty of space to ~_ feel it~ out _as she’d like to say, bringing him nests of snacks and cozy blankets she’d dug up from various piles in her room, leaving him to sit with himself. When that didn’t work, she’d resorted to distractions, shape shifting into various silly objects; blasting action-packed wrestling matches from the nearby TV stand; even sitting idly by his bed, soft music ringing out from an old tablet she’d dug up months before. She’d finally cracked and blown up at him for refusing to change, secretly hoping her exasperation would elicit a reaction. Nothing had worked. 

“Well, we don’t know what’s bothering him!” Pearl retaliates.

He listens to their bickering and suddenly feels like a kid again. They’re wondering what’s wrong with him, how they can _ fix _him. Frustration gnaws at his core, their voices bouncing off the walls of the beach house and shooting directly into his already pounding head. He’s riding on the tailcoats of fury as he swings to the top of the steps, barking out:

“** _Connie broke up with me!_ ** ”

Silence.

Amethyst whistles, getting promptly cut off by two simultaneous glares.

“Oh, Steven, I’m sorry, Pearl laments, approaching the stairwell cautiously, willing him down to talk, “we didn’t know”. He shoots her a tired look before disappearing back into his room, mattress groaning under his weight. Pearl extends a hand towards the railing, hesitant. She wasn’t notoriously good at consoling others, sympathy escaping her and burrowing itself rather deeply into Steven instead. _ Although _ , she pondered, teeth sinking steadily into her bottom lip, _ perhaps she could offer experience _.

“You know, when your mother...left,” she breathed, gaze drifting to the portrait hanging above them, “I didn’t know what to do with myself”. The room goes quiet, as it often did when she talked about Rose. But her voice no longer warbles at the thought of her, and she looks on at the pastel image with a bittersweet gleam in her eye.

“I felt so lost and confused, it was like the entire galaxy had shut itself off from me,” she continued, memories returning as clear as day, “I couldn’t imagine a future without her, but now, I can’t imagine a future without _ you _ ”. Her face flushes a pale cerulean as Amethyst jabs at her: _ Get to the point _.

“What I’m trying to say is - these things happen, and sometimes,” she concludes, “sometimes it’s for the best”. A beat shifts, but her moral receives no response. She sighs, defeated, and turns to Amethyst who shrugs jadedly. The short gem is nudged forward and lets out a disgruntled huff.

“Yeah, what P said - besides, who needs her?” she adds, folding her arms together, “She was a total dork-nerd anyways, am I right, Steven?” Pearl looks at her disapprovingly. No response.

They turn to Garnet, who dismisses them wordlessly. The front door squeaks as they take their leave, a sigh of relief cutting through the heavy atmosphere.

Footsteps creak into the floorboards as a boxy shadow makes its way over to Steven.

She perches on the side of the bed just inches away from his hunched-over body. Saying nothing, she begins to gently thread her fingers through his curly hair. They remain there, motionless, soaking in each other's presence. Steven gives in to her touch, and after a spell, sits up hesitantly, grateful for the company. He opens his mouth to apologize for his outburst but is met with a drawn-out hush.

“No need. This will pass. Just give it time, you’ll see” she advises him, moving to leave. He watches her curiously, heart feeling lighter. They don’t understand, but they’re _ trying _. She’s halfway down the steps when he hears her voice call back.

“Oh, and take a shower. It’s starting to get funky in here”.

He quirked an eyebrow, pulling at his collar and taking a quick whiff, immediately pulling back. _ Alright, maybe she’s right about one thing. _Waiting for the temple door to close, he struts towards the bathroom, grabbing an armful of clothes from a forgotten basket to sort through later.

** _Click!_ **

The door locks with a finality behind him; stepping out of his clothes he glances briefly at his reflection. Small patches of unruly hair had begun to sprout from his jawline and cheeks. He rubbed his face dejectedly, a pair of sullen eyes staring back. _ How long had he been out for? _

Shaking his head and letting out a defeated sigh, he turns the faucet to _ hot _, letting the thin stream that tumbles out pool into his palm, overflowing and dropping in small puddles to the white tub below. Pulling a knob, the shower springs to life with a distinct hiss, steam fogging the mirror behind him. The warmth is inviting, and his mind clears as he steps into the cascading drizzle, working shampoo into his wet hair, the water growing sudsy beneath him.

When he steps out fifteen minutes later, he’s met with an assortment of shirts and pants he’d snatched up and plopped down onto the counter. Sliding into a pair of undergarments, he rifles through wrinkled clothes, pulling out a faded, black _ Mr. Universe _ sweatshirt and a pair of baggy jeans. He tussles his hair dry with a towel, before fixating on a flash of pink peeking out from underneath an old _ Funland _ t-shirt. His heart sinks as he remembers the gift Connie had given him over four years ago.

Bursting out from the bathroom, he trips and falls flat against the wall, sinking down and fighting the tears threatening to trickle down his cheeks. It was all still so _ hard _ . He lets out a frustrated cry as his knuckles crash into the ground. If only there were someone who _ understood. _ What it was like to be abandoned by someone you _ loved _ . What it was like to _ not feel okay _ about being left alone. Someone who he could share their _ history _ to without getting batted away. Someone like-

** _Spinel_ **

His mind began to race; would she really be able to relate to how he felt? A rush of adrenaline kicks his legs into gear, and before he knows it, he’s planted onto the warp pad, destination set for Homeworld. A bright light engulfs him as he’s sent shooting across the galaxy.

The throne room illuminates in a blinding cyan, as Steven steps onto its spotless tiles. Yellow Diamond looms above him, jaw dropping at his sight.

“Steven!” she stammers, quickly discarding a holo-tab, “What a surprise!”. She enunciates every word in a gleeful tone, a smirk betraying her natural stoicism. 

“Hey, Yellow...yeah, it’s a surprise for me too,'' he coughs awkwardly into his fist, having completely blanked out on the Diamonds lurking at the other end of the warp. She swiftly informs him of her quick work at establishing more leisure activities on her former colonies, an eyebrow raising cockily as she awaits his approval. He congratulates her, head swerving around in search of magenta pigtails. She clears her throat conspicuously, voice reverberating through the foyer. 

“Is there something you’re looking for?” she prods, squinting at him in suspicion. He sighs, _ no point in beating around it _.

“I’m actually here to see, Spinel - no offense,” he adds, “It’s really important”. She looks at him in confusion, then, a flash of recognition dawns on her face.

“Oh, yes, Spinel. I haven’t seen her in some time. You might find her in Pink’s room - we gave it to her, after all,” she answers, turning on her heel, “We must inform the other Diamonds of your arrival, it really has been much too long-”.

He’s gone when she looks back.

______________________________________

The palace hadn’t changed much since the last time he’d walked down these corridors: empty, gigantic, pristine. Every arch and corner serving a distinct purpose in its immaculate design. He continues down the hall, the distinct _ clack, clack, clack _ of flip flops ricocheting off the walls, only stopping once he finally reached a sizable rose-tinted door. Shyly pushing it open, his eyes quickly skim over the room. It’s exactly how they last left it, an almost perfect replica of the beach house four years ago.

“Hello?” he calls out, “Anybody here?”. He’s met with the sound of tiny footsteps clambering all around him, pebbly creatures emerge abruptly from tiny rotating doors fixed on the walls and floors.

“Steven!” they squeal at him excitedly, scaling up his bright trousers and catapulting themselves onto his damp hair. He shoots them a weak smile, endeared by their enthusiasm.

“Long time no see, you guys” he greets them, giving an overarching pat, as he idly surveys the room, “Have you guys by any chance seen Spinel?”. He’s met with head shakes and a choir of ‘no’s’. He sulks at this. Of course she isn’t here, she must be off somewhere, with all her _ new friends _. What was he thinking coming to Homeworld?

“At least I can have some privacy” he sighs, absentmindedly flinging himself onto the knockoff of his bed. _ Well, sort of, _ he snickered, as the pebbles poked at him. 

A shrill voice cuts through his thoughts.

“Well, well, well doth mine eyes deceive me? Could it be? Steven Universe?” the lively figure implores. 

“Spinel!” he exclaims, already on his feet, clumsily racing towards her. Stunned, she reacts swiftly as he thrusts himself at her, all smiles and laughter. Stretching her arms to catch him as he nearly whizzes past her, she wraps her gloves around his torso, pulling him in.

“Gee, where’s the party, Universe?” she chuckles, as he squeezes her tightly. It’d been ages since she’d last seen the half-human monarch; certainly less than she had waited for his mother, sure, but his visitation had come as a shock.

“It’s so good to see you,” he shares sincerely, “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything…”. She waves a hand at him, scoffing. She hasn’t been busy in eons, she exaggerates - hoping he doesn’t catch the hint of gloominess in her retort. She offers him a seat, the pebbles scramble to construct a perfectly-sized chair. They sit and discuss their new lives, both trailing off as they approach the present.

“So what made you drop by, anyhow?” she questions, finger scratching cartoonishly at her scalp, unaware of the sledgehammer she just drove through his chest. He looks at her sheepishly, insecurity seeping in.

“I just felt lonely, 'is all,'' he murmurs, avoiding eye-contact, “I could really use a friend”. Spinel smiles gently.

“You were there for me when I needed you most, the least I can do is be here for you,” she reassures him, placing a hand gingerly on the shoulder of his long-sleeve, “now c’mon, why don’t we go out and _ stretch _ our legs” she winks at him, extending a curved boot into the hall for emphasis. He laughs at this and takes her outstretched hand, following her out.

Homeworld was as bright and lively as ever; the buildings towered over them as Spinel led him through the narrow streets. There were gems from every facet and colony here, Rubies darting out from beneath Jaspers, and Aquamarines hanging onto the arms of Pearls. They’d twist through crowds, some gems occasionally stopping to greet him with a curt _ My Diamond _, others turning to stop and gawk. They tour through the enormous cityscape, Spinel wrapping herself around Steven and bungee-cording them across huge groups and passages.

Returning through the window peeking into Pink Diamond’s quarters, Spinel drops them to the floor dramatically. She grins and turns to Steven, who pants in between his signature guffaws. His breath steadies, and he instinctively reaches for his phone. His eyes shoot open and he clambers to his feet, gaping at the screen.

“It’s 3 AM already?” he gasps, shoulders tensing in alarm, “I should really be getting back, the gems must be worried sick”. Spinel deflates at this, a dejected ‘_ oh _ ’ escaping from her downturned mouth. He pauses, observing her. He can’t just leave her like this. _ She needs me _ , he reminds himself. _ I need her. _

“Why don’t you come with me?” he suggests, gesturing towards the exit, “I could really use the company”. She twinkles at him, and they trek out into the corridor.

They approach the throne room, Steven signaling for her to stay quiet, gesturing to the voices echoing from inside.

“We need to find a way out without them noticing,” he whispers. Giving him a thumbs up, she brings a taut finger to her lips and slowly coils her arms around him.

“He was just here, there’s no way he could have left already,” Yellow shouts in annoyance, the other Diamonds crouched tentatively beside her. Spinel grits her teeth anxiously as she stretches them onto the warp pad at the center of the hall. Her shoe hits the marble with a whiny squeak_,_ and Steven rapidly throws up his arms. The two beam into his house - a shrill ‘**_Steven!_**’ sputtering out from behind them.

They arrive in a huff, a bead of sweat drips down his forehead as Steven throws his head back in laughter, Spinel cackling at his side.

“Did you see the look their faces?” Spinel wheezes, flashing a wide grin at her new partner-in-crime. He nods at her, bringing a sleeve up to swipe across his face.

“Guess we’re fugitives now,” he winks at her, another chuckle shaking out his aching stomach. His eyelids droop low, exhausted from the excitement. He grasps Spinel’s hand and leads her down to the beach house, pointing out areas she could relax downstairs. She blinks at him quizzically.

“What are you going to do?” she asks, the slouch in her shoulders making her appear small. 

“I have to sleep for a few hours - it’s a human thing,” he explains, an apologetic lull underlying his reply, “You just close your eyes and clear your mind”. She seems to accept this answer and returns his offhanded _Good night _, watching as he makes his way back up, leaving her in the quiet darkness of the living room.

  
______________________________________

Time slips by and she’s had her eyes shut for what feels like an eternity when she hears soft creaking from above. The sound slinks closer and she freezes as the couch dips beside her.

“Spinel?” she hears a voice croak out, “I can’t sleep...think we can just talk?”.

“Of course,” she says, inching forward, “anything”. The figure nuzzles into her chest and she traces a circle soothingly on their back.

“Thank you," it mumbles.

“What are friends for”.


	3. All I Wanna Do (Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spinel and Steven hang out together
> 
> Everything's fine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all thanks for being patient!! this chapter ended up being way longer than I originally planned, so i'm splitting it in 2 !

In the garden, everything had always been still, _ quiet. _

On Homeworld, everything moved around her rhythmically, like a giant clock that never stopped ticking.

Earth was nothing like that.

Even now, she could hear the world beat around her. Crickets chirped outside the window and the wind howled through the night carelessly; the Earth was _ breathing. _

She looked down at Steven, who had come to her moments before, only to wiggle his body onto the couch and slump onto her, slipping into unconsciousness.

His arms wrapped around her chest, small noises escaping from his slightly agape mouth. She squirmed in his clutch, fighting the urge to thrash- to bounce- twist -_ move _. He murmurs and her twitching limbs begin to calm. At least she’s not alone.

Light drips down the walls as dawn breaks, dyeing wispy clouds navy and gold. 

She stretches herself thinly, slinking carefully out of his grasp. 

Steven stirs, turns to his side, and curls into the pillows. Spinel sighs in relief, turning around and surveying the dimly lit space. Her eyes wander to the warp pad sat in front of a studded door, wondering absentmindedly where it would take her. Images hang off the walls; she follows them to a flight of stairs, stopping in front of a large portrait.

The figure was noble, soft, and _ pink _; her eyes trailed down to the gem embedded in her navel. 

Steven’s gem.

_ It was her. _

_ .... _

And yet it wasn’t; Spinel looks hard at the stranger replicated before her, squinting at her serene expression. It was a Quartz, that was unmistakable: massive and strong with wild, voluminous hair. Her flowing dress was uncharacteristic of course, but nothing about this gem seemed particularly extraordinary. Perhaps that was the point.

She inspects the other pictures - all various pictures of Steven posing with the Crystal gems and a few unfamiliar humans. He looked so happy. They all looked so happy.

_ What was she doing here? _

Spinel backed away slowly from the portrait, stumbling backwards, having forgotten about the stairs. She lands on her back with a thud and sits up quickly to check on Steven. 

Still asleep.

_ Phew _

She rises to her feet and tiptoes towards the warp pad, pausing as she notices a door left slightly ajar. She studies it inquisitively, wondering what could be inside. Her shoes squeak against the floorboards as she approaches the door, pushing it open to reveal a small room of porcelain and cloth.

Pink eyes dart around the enclosed space. Picking up a strange small brush and boredly tossing it over her shoulder, she jumps in surprise as her eyes land on a familiar face. She cups her cheek, watching her reflection mirror her every move.

She had changed since the last time she was on Earth. Gone were the runny lines of mascara smeared down her face, tell-tale signs of her inconsolable grief. Her pigtails were less unkempt, no longer frizzy and tangled. This was the form she had chosen when she decided to come to this planet, to destroy _ him _. The mirror scowled at her, eyebrows furrowing the more she remembered what she had done.

_ What are you doing here? _

______________________________

** _CRASH!_ **

“Wait don’t go!” Steven shouted, jolting awake to the sight of his living room. He’s curled tightly around something soft and quickly reels back; stammering out a stream of apologies before realizing that Spinel was gone. He shakes his head and stretches his arms out. He must have fallen asleep.

A loud bang echoes out once again from the bathroom. Steven flinches, a pink, translucent shield reflexively materializing at his side. 

Slamming the door open he’s met with Spinel, who managed to tear out the shower rod along with a few drawers from under the sink.

“Heya,” she greets him casually. His eyes scan the disheveled bathroom, surprised at how much damage she caused. He shakes his head in disapproval and sighs, looking down at the gem sprawled out on the floor, puppy-dog eyes turned up at him in shame. 

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” he reassures her, pulling Spinel to her feet, “I kind of expect gems to wreck my bathroom at this point”. Affixing the rod and curtain back to the shower, he begins collecting tossed bottles and rearranging them back into their designated drawers. 

_ Ping! _

He freezes, adrenaline coursing through his body. He digs through his back pocket and swiftly unlocks his phone..

_ Two missed calls and a voicemail. _

Breath abated, he punches in a pincode and…sighs dejectedly.

Spinel slinks up behind him, head resting on his shoulder.

**Play Voicemail on Speaker**

**Voicemail from Guitar Dad on Saturday, July 13, at 7:24 AM**

**Beep**

“Hey kiddo,” the voicemail begins, “I gotta limo here at the wash that could really use some sprucing up, think you can lend me a hand? Text me back when you can, love you”. 

His fingers fly across his phone in response.

[ Sure dad, omw]

Sent | Today, 8:53 AM

“My dad needs me over at his place,” Steven says, turning to Spinel who teeters back. She lets out a disappointed _ ‘Oh’ _, and looks to the side.

“Yeah,” he continues, “we have a lot of work ahead of us”. He smiles at her and walks out. Her hands clasp together in excitement and she starts towards the exit, glancing back at the shattered mirror.

Steven stands in the kitchen, mouth feeling dry and _ gross _. He takes note of the lack of fruit and shrugs. The fridge creeks open and he grabs a cup of yogurt and granola, eyeing the cans of apple juice tucked at the back of the fridge before closing it shut.

He tucks into the creamy mixture, the flavor kickstarting a hunger he didn’t realize was previously there. He digs in achingly, inhaling his breakfast in just a few hearty bites.

He chases it with a glass of water and leaves to brush his teeth

______________________________________________  
  


They meet outside where a one-eyed cat jumps down from her spot on a nearby railing and mewls at them.

“Sleep well, Steven Jr?” Steven teases, scritching behind her ear. The cat nuzzles into the palm of his hand and purrs. He gestures Spinel over, guiding her hand to pet the soft creature.

A tail curls around her arm, the cat clearly enamoured by her touch. An insect hops close and her eyes widen into two jet-black disks. The cat paws at it playfully and bounds after it.

The day is warm, and Spinel squints at its brightness. She turns to the ocean, watching the waves lap gently at the shore, the smell of seaweed and saltwater tickling her nose. She hadn’t remembered how _ alive _ the Earth had been. 

Steven nudges her.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” he asks, inhaling the fresh sea breeze. 

“Eh, I’ve seen better,” she states, folding her arms over her chest jokingly. Steven pushes her shoulder playfully and they walk up the hill towards town.

“So where we headed anyway?” Spinel asks.

“We’re going to my dad’s car wash to help him - you guessed it - wash a car” he winks at her. Spinel’s not sure what a car is or why they need to wash it, but she tags behind him anyway.

Steven looks up at the clouds pensively. He’s been helping his dad run the carwash ever since he turned 16. He’d asked him plenty of times why he’d kept his old business- he certainly didn’t need the cash anymore. He’d finally understood _ why _ the first time his dad had slipped a crisp $50 bill into his hand after a painless two-hour shift, thanking him for a job well done.

It’s a short walk to _ It’s a Wash! _ The decrepit elephant sign blinking overhead, fluorescence dimmed by the passage of time. A man watches a pair of seagulls wistfully before noticing their arrival.

“Steven!” he shouts; standing up from a beat up folding chair, greeting his son with a tight squeeze. 

“Glad you could make it, Stuball!” he exclaims.

Letting him go, he turns to the short pink gem who doesn’t meet his gaze. Steven smiles sheepishly, hand rising to rest on her shoulder.

“Dad, you remember Spinel, right?” 

“Boy do I,” he laughs nervously, scratching at the back of his head, “I’d be pretty hard-pressed to forget…”

The large human studies her apprehensively, gnawing at his lower lip, long wavy hair tousled between his fingers. His face is strikingly familiar and she begins scouring for his sunburnt figure amidst her hazy memories; his terrified expression bursting into view at the site of the explosion.

_ No wonder he’s looking at her like that _

Her pigtails deflate at this realization. _Why did she think this was a good idea?_ _She should have stayed on Homeworld_. _Of course no one wants her here - not after everything she’s done, not Steven,not the Crystal Gems, and certainly not-_

“It’s Greg,” he says, extending his hand towards her kindly, “Glad to have you, we could always use another set of hands”.

She takes it, diamonds sparkling in her eyes.

“Things got pretty wild the other night, what with the music video and all; she-”, he pauses, gesturing to the limo, “could really use a little TLC, if you know what I mean”.

The pair look over at the vehicle, windows filmy with fingerprints. Neon green confetti stick to the hood, red paint smeared across the side doors. They turn to its owner who shrugs back at them, mumbling something about _ show biz _. 

“Anywho, I have this big meeting with a label today,” he explains, “but we really need the limo; can you help your old man out?” 

“Alright,” Steven agrees, “but only ‘cause you’re my _ favorite _ old man”. Greg scoffs and gives him a well-deserved _ noogie _ in retaliation. His pocket begins to buzz and he pulls out a gray flip-phone.

“That’s my cue,” he informs them, “the pay’s on the counter like always - I’ll see you two later!”

“Bye, dad!” Steven calls out, as they watch Greg step into his van and pull away.

Steven strolls over to the garage and collects some equipment. Nodding Spinel over, they begin hosing the limo down and scrubbing away the filth. Spinel stretches skillfully around the car, swabbing the windshields and shining the rims. Steven marvels at her quick work, he trails behind her, the hose running taut behind him.

He’s yanked back suddenly, feet scrambling beneath him to maintain balance; the water shoots out wildly from the spout and finally lands on Spinel’s hunched body . She shakes the cold droplets off and looks up, glaring at her assailant.

“Whoops,” Steven says, “sorry, I didn’t mean to-”, he’s cut off by a pink arm whipping out towards him, snatching the green tube from his hands. Spinel looks around strategically, before climbing onto the top of the limousine. Her figure looms over him ominously.

“Hey!,” he yells out at him, “ Did you just shoot water at me?”.

Memories flood back to him and he can’t help but chuckle at her antics.

_ Is she really doing this? _

“Answer me!” she demands, voice high and menacing.

“Maybe,” he responds toyingly, stifling his laughter. She shoots him a pleading look, and motions for him to play along, a soft smile on her lips. He sighs and eases his hands into his jean pockets.

“Yes?” he replies, a questioning lilt to his answer.

“Perfect,” she purrs; he gulps involuntarily at her delivery, suddenly feeling the heat of summer seep into his collar. He’s torn back to reality by a jet of water hitting him square in the face, Spinel cackling above him. She continues to spray him, chasing him around the lot with the hose, only stopping when he finally summons a protective bubble and gasps out a _ ‘You win!’ _.

They towel the lingering moisture off the limousine and finish it off with a thin layer of wax. Steven drags out a dusty vacuum, clearing the front seat of any miscellaneous debris.

“Do you think you could finish vacuuming the back?” he asks, handing her the nozzle, “I really want to change out of this,” he explains, tugging at his waterlogged shirt. She nods hesitantly, watching as he inches towards the building, a dejected expression weighing down her face.

“I’ll be right back,” he assures her, “Dad usually keeps spare clothes in the back, I won’t be long”.

\-------------------------------

Shambling past the door marked ‘**Employee’s Only**’, Steven peels off his damp long sleeve, naked skin shivering in protest. He takes note of the envelope sitting plainly at the center of a worn desk in the corner of the room, his name etched sloppily on its blank surface. Tearing it open, he finds eight twenty dollar bills wedged inside.

“All this for less than an hour of work…” he shakes his head to himself, folding the cash neatly into his wallet, he’ll have to have a talk with his dad. He rifles through a few drawers before finding a rust-colored shirt, ‘_ red! _’ scrawled across. Moving to slip it on, he’s stopped by the blurry sight of a grey silhouette peeking in from behind plastic shutters. With a careful yank of a cord, the blinds shoot open and unveil his out-of-commision Dondai Supremo, sitting behind the window outside. 

All at once he’s at its wheel again; only it’s not really _ him _ , it’s _ them, _and they’re shooting down the highway - adrenaline coursing through their veins as Kevin blows them a kiss. Blood boiling, they grab the handbrake and drift across the winding roads, the smell of burning rubber permeating the air as their tires brand smoky skid marks into the pavement. 

His vision blears, recalling that emotionally turbulent race - _ especially _ the aftermath. He remembers pulling into the driveway of the wash, an anxious Stevonnie jumping out of the front seat to inspect the car for damage; relief finally pooling into their exhausted form and pulling them apart. Connie had spent the night, assuring her overstrung mother that they were watching the meteor shower. _ Not a total lie _ she’d rationed with him - they’d just seen it from 1,000 feet above the city - but her mom didn’t need to know that.

Stumbling backwards, his hand catches the edge of the desk and transports him back into the office. He closes his reddening eyes shut and steadies his breathing, willing his aching chest to relax. A figure stands in the doorway.

It hadn’t been long, maybe 5, 10 minutes at most, but even then Spinel had began to feel her skin crawl under the beating sun. Vacuuming the limo had taken her all of 30 seconds to finish. ‘_ I’ll just check to make sure he’s okay’ _she’d told herself, slinking into the entrance of the car wash. She looked around the building, taking into account the various soft rags and strange machines when she heard soft clanging from the back. 

Peeking through the door, she found Steven hunched over a table, sobbing into his fist. She observed his form; he looked different now - like a poofed gem emerging back into the world. Her eyes trailed up his bicep where a single rose blossomed from his shoulder, thorny vines constricting his arm; he must have altered himself at some point. 

A faint blush bloomed across her face, feeling embarrassed to see him so vulnerable. She cleared her throat to break the silence; his head whipped around in surprise.

“Everything okay in there?” she asked lightheartedly, hoping to cut the tension.

His face flushes, suddenly all too aware of his bareness. He hurriedly pulls on the shirt, thumbing away the tears forming at the corners of his eyes. 

“Y-Yeah, you finish everything up?” he sniffed, shame burning at his cheeks. She nodded at him; he sighed and crossed his arms, unsure of what to say. An idea sprang to mind. Taking out his wallet, he eagerly slides strips of emerald paper into a bewildered Spinel’s hand.

“That’s for helping out today,” he grins at her, finger guns up and pointed at her. Slowly, she raises her hands to finger gun him back; he laughs.

“On Earth you can trade these in for stuff you want; like a shirt - or a vacuum - or a pizza-” his stomach cuts him off at this and she sniggers at him. 

“Definitely pizza,” he says, and motions towards the door.

___________________________________

“The quickest way to the boardwalk from here is through Little Homeworld,” Steven explains, fidgeting with his hands, “it gets rowdy on Saturdays; we can go another way if you want”.

“What, and miss all the fun?” Spinel says, flashing a toothy grin and throwing up a peace sign. Steven relaxes his shoulders; _ of course she’ll be alright _, there were plenty of gems on Homeworld after all. She’s had practice.

They stroll into the bustling community, buildings towering around them. The new town had finally been completed; gems from all over the galaxy walked freely through its streets - residents and tourists alike. 

A squadron of Rubies whooped in the distance, cheering on a tangoing Pearl and Nephrite. An era one Peridot handed a spork to a Lemon Jade fusion, who adored the cutlery. 

“It really is like a little Homeworld,” she said in awe, “who woulda guessed”. 

Warp pads suddenly flash in unison nearby; Amethysts and Jaspers barrel past them.

“She’s coming!” a tiny Carnelian screams, dashing towards another warp. A squat Amethyst spins out from behind a building, 

“I’m gonna get you!” she taunts, rolling directly into Steven. She ricochets back, landing on her behind with an ‘_ oof _’.

“Hey get outta my way, I’m gonna lose them-“ she grumbles, looking up at her amused obstacle. Her expression lights up and she clasps his outstretched hand.

“Oh Steven! ‘Sup dude,” she pants, “my bad, I didn’t know it was you”.

“Like you wouldn’t have ran me over still,” he jokes, hands placed knowingly on his hips.

“You bet your ass I would,” she snorts, “Woulda pulled it in reverse too; gotta make sure you** stay down** -_rrr RRR_!!!” She snaps back her imaginary transmission for emphasis. Steven rolls his eyes, suppressing his laughter.

Amethyst looks at him fondly. He had disappeared the night before without a word; Garnet had to calm down a hysterical Pearl and bitter Amethyst..

“It’s good to see you walkin’ around, we were starting to worry about-,” she pauses as a small pink gem pops up from behind Steven, “Spinel?”

“Aw shucks, I’ve never been better!” Spinel giggles, leaning in closer. Amethyst reels backwards, caught off-balance. She looks between the gem and Steven in disbelief. Spinel rests her elbow on Steven’s shoulder and grins.

“I, uh, invited Spinel down to Earth,” Steven mentions, “I thought it’d be nice to hang out for once”. Amethyst looks at Spinel uneasily who winks at her; she shivers. 

“Cooool,” she trails off, searching for an escape, “well I should probably get back to the hunt; gotta lot at stake y’know?” Steven nods.

”Right, well catch you later then,” he steps out of the way, allowing her to tear down the road. Spinel waves her off.

“Well that was awkward,” she huffs.

“Amethyst’s just a little rough around the edges,” he justified, “I’m sure she’s glad to see you.” His phone buzzes: 

**Amethyst**

[ ayo y r u hanging out w/ spinel?? that girls totally nuts :// ]

Sent || Just Now || Read

**Steven**

[ Amethyst its cool, things are different now ]

[ Besides its not like she’s wrecking anything Ive been w/ her all day]

Sent || Just Now || Read

**Amethyst **

[oh ya?? might wanna check the batroom mirror man ish looks pretty rekt to me]

[*bathroom 🦇]

[w/e tho bro u do u]

[just be careful ok?]

Sent || Just Now || Read

He sighs and pockets the phone, leading Spinel to the last street of Little Homeworld.

_____________________

  
  


They arrive to the boardwalk, seagulls soar above - swooshing down and pecking at discarded cartons of fries. A short human behind a table beckons at Spinel, who approaches, intrigued. An array of sandy charms sat in front of her; she prods one carefully, half-expecting it to spring to life. Steven moves towards the stand and squints at the boy.

“What are you doing out here, Onion?” he questions; the boy points down at the sign below:

** _[FOR SALE] _ **

and motions at seashells.

Spinel picks one up and turns it around, impressed by its curvature and iridescent surface.

“This some kinda Earth Pearl?” she asks.

“It’s a conch shell,” Steven offers, taking it into his hands delicately, “It’s usually home to sea snails, but sometimes people collect them for fun”. 

“If you blow into it like this,” he continues, putting his lips to the tip of the conch, “it sounds like a trumpet”. She looks at him then back at the shell in awe.

“They say that if you listen to the inside of it, you can hear the ocean,” he adds on, paying no mind as she takes a deep breath and brings the shell to her mouth, “but I’m not sure if it’d work for you; _ Connie _ says that-”

** _BWRRRR!_ **

The conch blares out noisily, startlying Steven and passersby with a deafening blast. Stars twinkle in Spinel’s eyes and she cradles the conch closely. 

“I’m keeping it,” she whispers. The young human snaps his fingers at her and gestures once again to the sign. A memory hits her like a train, and a bright light engulfs her gem, green bills materializing into thin air. The money lands into Onion’s unfurled paw, wrinkling in his iron grip. Seashells fly into the air and explode onto the ground as the boy flips the table forward, stuffing the wad into his pants and disappearing in a blur.

Steven watches slack-jawed, his ears still ringing loudly, as the boy somersaults into a bush; an onlooker rushing to tear the brush apart but discovering nothing inside. 

Spinel stores the conch in the depths of her gem and waves her hand in front of a baffled Steven; he shakes his head and they continue walking along the boardwalk. _ Guess that’s going in the Onion-bank_.

______________________

8-bit music rings out from an open shop - bright, colorful lights illuminate its dark corners. Spinel stops in front of the building, her brows knitted in confusion.

“Hang on, why does this seem so…” she begins.

“Familiar?” Steven finishes, “We came here a long time ago, I’m surprised you still remember it”.

She draws closer to the entrance; hands folded together, eyes searching between blinking machines before landing on a station at the back. She runs over almost automatically, blinking at the apparatus..

“Skeeball, huh? Why not play a round” Steven suggests, slipping silver coins into the slot. The machine _ vrrs _ to life; a sleeve of dull spheres roll into view.

“You just grab a ball and try to make it into one of the holes up there,” he explains, “here like this”.

Steven starts up another game beside her and takes a ball into his hands, hurtling it down the track in one quick motion. It lands perfectly into the center labeled 100. The machine pings loudly and a row of tickets shoot out at his feet. He winks at her, a cheeky smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Don’t get too cocky now,” she _ tsks _ him, “remember, I was made for this”. Tongue poking out in concentration, she bowls the ball onto the stretch, watching as it spins uselessly to the bottom lip, teetering over the edge and falling into the gutter.

“Can’t win ‘em all,” Steven shrugs, continuing his streak; pings of glorious victory ring through the arcade, accentuated by crescendos of ‘keep it up!’. 

Spinel growls and tries again. One by one, the balls roll to their doom, swallowed mercilessly and shooting back to repeat in an endless cycle of agony and terrible hand-eye coordination. _ She’s bad at this. _

She bites her lip in frustration, grimacing at the _ 5 seconds! _ announcement; _ a gem’s gotta do what a gem’s gotta do. _ She slings a pink glove towards the center and quickly rolls the remaining balls down the length of her arm. Steven gapes as the machine rings out madly, spewing out rows of tickets in a flurry. 

“** _Winner!_ **” a deep voice declares.

“Well wouldn’t you know it,” she gloats, “I _ can _ win ‘em all”.

He laughs and congratulates her on a game well played. Ripping the cord of tickets from the machine, he directs her to a counter in the back.

A large man stands in front of them, arms crossed in front of his chest and head hung low. Steven knocks on the corner and startles him awake

“_ Ste-ven Universe _ ,” Mr. Smiley yawns, “now that’s a name I haven’t heard around these parts in _ years _”.

“Mr. Smiley I was here like three weeks ago,” he replies, bemused, “anyways, don’t suppose we could pick something out?”.

Spinel dumps the mountain of tickets onto the glass surface, proud of their work. The tall man seems surprised by the amount of tickets, but shrugs and runs them through a machine.

“You have about 6,240 tickets,” he informs them.

Mr.Smiley dithers for a moment, pointer finger tapping at his chin.

“Three weeks ago, huh...” he mulls, “Oh, that’s right you were with your girlfriend-”.

“** _Okay we’re gonna look at the prizes now!_ **” Steven interrupted, grabbing Spinel by the hand and guiding her to a small corner.

They browse through the various toys and trinkets on display, Steven names a few classics, handing her a Chinese Finger Trap and Sticky Hand to fiddle with. She drums her fingers on her upper arm indecisively before noticing a light focused on a long object behind the tall man.

“What’s that?” she asks, arm stretching to point at it.

“That,” Mr. Smiley answers, swatting her hand away, “is one half of a couple’s necklace; it’s antique, so it’ll run you a pretty penny”.

Spinel eyed the necklace; it was a simple chain with one piece of a split heart dangling at its end. She’d never seen anything like it.

“What’s a pretty penny?” she asks him, his smile widening.

“25,000 tickets,” he responds, “looks like you’re a little, to a lot too low”.

She looks woefully down at the stack of tickets bunched onto the counter, willing the pile to grow bigger. Steven pats her back and reminds her of the alternate prizes. 

Her eyes widen and she slowly rips into joyous, maniacal laughter. The two men stare at her, frightened by her outburst. Her gem bursts into a ball of light as tickets launch out rapidly, folding onto themselves.

“_ I knew I remembered this place for a reason!” _ she roared excitedly, the trail of tickets finally coming to an end.

“How long have you had those for?!” Steven cried out, flabbergasted yet undeniably impressed by Spinel’s revelation. She giggled at him and took a dramatic bow. The duo turned to the man behind the counter, who already began counting the tickets.

“Looks like this brings you up to a whopping total of… 14,572 tickets,” he concluded, dusting his hands off, “which in case you didn’t know, is 10,428 tickets short”.

Spinel pouts at this. Steven pats her back reassuringly, steering her to another section of prizes. She stares gloomily down at the plastic novelties. He slides over to the man, resting his arm cooly on the countertop.

“This is kind of her first time hanging out at the arcade - or even Earth for that matter,” he discloses, hand sliding into his pocket, “maybe you could just let this slide?”. Mr. Smiley gives him a vacant smile and shakes his head. _ No _

“Sorry Steven,” he speaks through gritted teeth, “it’s company policy”. Steven takes a deep breath and exhales, taking out a worn wallet along with a few bills.

“I’d hate to ask again” he coughs, placing the cash on the table, “_ but do you think you could just let this slide _?”.

“It’s. company. policy.” he reiterates, pointing at a sign above.

Steven squints. Huh. _ Guess they put that up for a reason. _

Spinel trudges towards them. She slaps a neon pink Sticky Hand onto the counter and sniffles. Mr. Smiley eyes the prize and removes 5 tickets from the bunch.

“You have 14,567 tickets left,” he announces. Steven glances down at Spinel sympathetically.

“I think we should come back another time,” Steven murmurs, “let’s go, Spinel”. He puts an arm around her shoulder and walks her out; unaware of the hand slithering across the retro carpet and behind the snoozing arcade manager. 

__________________________________

A bell chimes softly as Steven leads Spinel to a table at the boardwalk’s best and only pizza joint.

“Welcome to Fish Stew Pizza!” Kiki calls to them from behind the counter; she approaches them with a notepad.

“Hey Steven and Steven’s friend; how ya doin?” she asks politely, pushing her pen.

“Never been better” he answers semi-ironically, “how are _ you _, Kiki?”. She sighs and crosses her arms.

“Busy,” she groans, “Ever since Jenny and Gunga left, I’ve been working twice as many shifts; turns out rockstars can’t deliver pizzas”.

“Anyways,” she says, “just the usual?” Steven shoots her a thumbs up followed by a _ ‘You know it _’. Kiki laughs and walks back to the kitchen. 

Spinel picks up a menu, skimming over the words and admiring the _ interesting _ dishes. Steven taps it down and offers her a bread roll. She takes it, turning it over to inspect it. 

“No pressure, you don’t have to eat if you don’t want to,” he reassures her, “it’s kind of like a donut - you remember those, right?” She nods her head slowly, taking a tentative bite. He’s talking now, casually gesticulating, voice warm and comforting. Smile wide and tender, the kind you might see in a photo - the kind that you’ve _ seen _ in a photo. She recoils into her seat, 2 years worth of self-disgust and remorse finally hitting its threshold.

“_ Why are you doing this _?” she cuts him short, hands slamming onto the table; he gapes at her, caught off guard by her outburst. 

“Doing what?” he falters, looking around and mouthing a ‘_ sorry’ _to a nearby couple. 

“_ This! _ ” she gestures frantically, “rubbin’ elbows with me, taking me to _ Earth _ , acting like we’re actually _ friends _”. Spinel laughs bitterly, eyebrows furrowed and fists raised.

“We are friends!” Steven retorted, 

“_ Why _” she seethes, rising to her feet, “why befriend the gem that woulda seen you and your planet destroyed?” Spinel huffs, pulling desperately at her pigtails; she barely notices the hands reaching for her own. Steven pries them gently from her hair, holding them as he steadily guides her back into her seat. Tears prick at her eyes as she allows him to placate her, zoning in to his words of comfort. They sit in silence, Spinel ashamed and exhausted.

“Spinel,” Steven breathes, “what’s in the past is in the past; the important thing is that you’re taking steps to change for the better”. Spinel snivels.

“Things are different now - _ you’re _ different now,” he reminds her, “and for what it’s worth, I forgive you.''

“Really?” she squeaks, shiny eyes turned up at him. 

“I did a long time ago,” he responds matter-of-factly, “besides if I stayed mad at every gem that tried to kill me, I’d have, like, zero friends”. She laughs weakly and squeezes his hands.

The front bell jingles feet away.

A tall, smartly dressed girl with dark hair and dolent eyes steps in.

Steven gawks unabashadley at her, eyes the size of dinner plates. 

“Welcome to Fish Stew Pizza!” Kiki shouts out

Connie looks up and freezes, hand reflexively cradling her indigo wrist.

_Oh_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Captain Sparkles voice] CONNIE,,,, AWW MAN


	4. All I Wanna Do (Pt. 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steven and Spinel hang out
> 
> Everything's *fine*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pt 2 of this chapter! hope you enjoy

A chair skids backwards with a screech; Steven staggers forward, mind racing, chest pounding. Connie watches him in dismay.

“Steven-” 

“Where have you been?” he asks dejectedly, “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for days-” he steps closer, causing her to skirt back. Her eyes dart between him and the register, a bead of sweat running down her temple.

“I can’t talk Steven; I need to pick up this order,” she states, shuffling towards the front counter.

“Then when **can** you?” he begs, trodding alongside her, “Tomorrow, Wednesday, in _three_ _weeks_”. She exchanges the receipt and opens the pizza box, checking for any mistakes. 

“Connie, I miss you, I love you,” he confesses; she winces at this, a hand rising quickly to clamp her mouth. She recollects herself and paces towards the exit.

“Wait!” Steven pleads, blocking her path, “A reason- I need a reason-” 

“Steven, please!” she whimpers, face reddening, “I’m just not strong enough, I’m sorry.” Connie pushes past him, dashing out the door, onto the boardwalk, and out of his life. Steven falls to his knees, shell-shocked. The restaurant is silent.

“I’ll just...pack this up,” Kiki remarks, backing away.

________________________________

Spinel carries the pizza box quietly. Steven walks dejectedly beside her, shoulders drooping downward and gaze focused on the ground in front of them. Neither dared to speak.

Seagulls soar above and land onto blinking streetlamps; they reach a creaky bench and rest. Steven melts onto the cool wood; elbows situating on his knees, face sinking into his palms. Spinel looks on helplessly; she was made to entertain, not to console.

“I don’t know how much more I can take,” he sobs, voice muffled by his hands, “I miss her so much but she’s never coming back and_ there’s nothing I can do about it _”.

Spinel turns away from him, shifting her gaze to the sky. Twilight had already crept upon them, smatterings of stars gleaning out from behind plum clouds and a mauve haze.

“I waited 6,000 years for the person I loved more than anything in the universe to come back,” she began, fingers fidgeting at her side, feeling a lump blossoming in her throat, “but she never did”. 

She gulps, failing to suppress the flood of emotions from bursting out of her carefully mended seams.

“I think somewhere - deep inside - I _ knew _ she had forgotten about me, I just didn’t want to accept it,” she’s snivels out, tears flowing down her cheeks freely, “I _ couldn’t _ accept it, because that meant that I had failed at the _ one thing _ I was made for”.

She runs a glove across the top of her gem, phantom pains chipping away at her core. Pausing to recollect herself, she jumps as arms clasped tightly around her.

“The worst part is,” she whispers almost inaudibly, willing her words to dissolve into the night, “I would do it all again, if it meant I could hold onto the hope that she still loved me”.

“I guess I already am,” she giggles, eyes trained to the sky.

Her hiccups tear into the fading day, the crashing of waves on solid cliffs echoes in the distance. Her sniffles begin to descend into silence, and her quivering chest steadies. She squeezes Steven back tenderly, grateful for his touch.

The air is chilly but their bodies are warm; Spinel wipes the last of her tears with the back of her hand and pulls away from her counterpart.

“Heh,” she snorts, “aren’t we a pair; sitting around blubbering about our problems like a couple a’ saps”

“Guess we got a bad case of the _ blues _” Steven snickers, signing the diamond salute. Spinel chuckles and punches him playfully on the arm.

“Come on,” he says, pulling her to her feet, “let’s do something fun”. He tugs her along by the hand. 

A large pizza box lays forgotten on the ground.

_________________________________________

She’s turned away from the ocean, hands placed strategically over her eyes, blocking her vision. Sand crunches softly behind her, and she taps her foot impatiently on the shifting particles.

“Aaand we’re done!” a voice announces eagerly, “you can open your eyes now!” Swiveling around, she’s presented with a strange scene. In front of her sat a pit of burning logs, pieces of driftwood arranged neatly around it. Small cans of metal lay half-buried in the sand. 

Steven throws his hands up, a _ ta-da _ringing above the crackling flames. She stares quietly, eyes wide. Laughter bubbles steadily from her core, evolving into a loud roar. She hangs onto her splitting sides, trying to contain herself. Steven shifts awkwardly in front of her, humiliation and insecurity clawing at his chest.

“Heh, guess this was kind of dumb idea…” he trails off, recoiling into himself.

“No!” Spinel responds quickly, still giggling, “No, no, it’s just not what I expected I…”.

She looks at his sheepish figure; he wrings his hands together, and looks at her apprehensively; a galaxy of stars reflect off his glistening eyes.

“It’s swell, Universe”.

He brightens at this and takes a seat around the fire.

“Oh, almost forgot-” he gasps, running towards a pile of boulders and returning with an ornate bag. He reaches for a small tab at the top of the accessory, zipping it open in one swift tug. Soft notes twang out as he pulls the instrument into his lap.

“Feels like we got enough wood already, but who am I to judge,” she comments half-jokingly, “seriously though, whatcha got there?”. He hums in response.

“Alright, alright, surprise me,” she settles, crossing her legs. He arranges his fingers on the frets of the guitar.

“To us,” he says tenderly, clearing his throat.

Strumming a series of chords, he begins to hum a short melody, his right hand falling rhymically against the strings. Recognition flashes in Spinel’s eyes. 

_ You’ve gotta be kidding me. _

“Someday, somewhere, somehow…” he sings, “I’ll love again”. The lyrics stir in her head. _ I just need to find someone _.

“That’s a pretty dated one, dontcha think?” she comments, shivering at the sound of the guitar.

“Like my dad always says - an oldie but a goodie,” he laughs, “don’t tell me you already forgot the words…”. She blushes at this, wringing her gloves together.

“Someone who treats you better…” he continues, goading her on, “come on, you have to know it”. She inhales deeply.

“Someone who wants me around,” she vocalizes.

“Someday, somewhere, somehow, I’m gonna feel found…” they conclude together. Steven strums the final chord and sighs. He opens one of the cans on the ground and takes a sip of it. Spinel inspects her surroundings; the beach was exactly as she remembered it - all rolling waves, sparkling sand, and smooth rocks. Yet, in the darkness it appeared to be an entirely different place.

“Figures you’d stay on a planet that never stops friggin’ moving,” she sneers, “what with your whole _ change _ complex and all”. He stays quiet for a moment, swishing the liquid inside the tin. She opens her mouth to apologize but he cuts through the silence.

“I don’t always want things to change,” he says, hand tightening around the beverage.

“It happens whether I want it or not and...I’ll always be one step behind,” he sighs, plucking mindlessly at the strings, “Maybe it’s selfish but sometimes...I wish I didn't have to always catch up". She looks at him sympathetically and moves to sit next to him.

“Well where’s the rush,” she offers, scooting closer, her hand accidentally brushing against his thigh. 

_ Crrk! _

The can crunches in his grip and drops to the ground. A gush of liquid shoots out onto Spinel’s stunned face.

“Oh, I am. so sorry!” Steven gasps, panicking, “here let me get that-”.

He takes out a handkerchief and cups her face in his hand, blotting away the droplets. Her eyes flash open, cheeks sticky and rosy. His face flushes at their proximity, eyes darting from her eyes to her lips.

“Something the matter?” Spinel asks, voice coy and sugary. His heart leaps; stomach fluttering in anticipation. 

_ [Do it] _

He screws his eyes shut and closed the distance between them. Spinel tenses, eyes blinking rapidly in disbelief before, slowly, relaxing into the kiss. She remained mostly still, unsure of how to react and scared of spoiling the moment. His lips were smooth and silky; there was a sweetness to him that she hadn’t expected but appreciated nonetheless. 

Steven dragged his hands from her arms to the small of her back, tugging her towards himself; he absentmindedly remembered how anxious he'd been the first time he and Connie kissed. 

There he stood, sweaty fists clenched at his side and lips puckered so tightly she’d laughed at his scrunched face. They were young then - shy, inexperienced, but passionate. Her lips had become familiar; warm and comforting yet electrifying in a way that left him in a daze - just like her.

Steven slipped his tongue into Spinel’s mouth, prodding hungrily at her soft insides. Moaning, his fingers trailed to her thighs, which he quickly began to hook over his own. Threading desperate fingers through her hair - [_ since when did she have ponytails?] _ \- he squeezed her unapologetically and without abandon. His mouth moved down to her throat - [ _ her heart’s not as loud as usual] _ \- raking his teeth over her collarbone and sucking at the tender skin. 

“You’re perfect,” he whispers; Spinel blushes fervervently, speechless. Feeling herself beginning to slip off, she shifts herself more onto his lap. He hisses into her chest, a low ‘_ please _’ slipping out.

Her eyes fly open in surprise at she feels him jab into her form; she breaks away, giving him a puzzled look.

He draws back in needily, whining at the absence of her mouth. Her face blurred slowly into existence; face glowing and dark pupils matching his own.

“Steven?” she asks, “Whatcha shape-shifting for?” Pink, bewildered eyes search his expression as he feels himself on the verge of cardiac arrest.

“** _Spinel?!_ **” he yelps, feeling the onset of whiplash. His body swings backwards, gravity throwing him into the dirt, all blood drained from his face. 

[_ Ohno this is bad oh fuck This is BAD Oh no oh n-] _

“Are you okay?” Spinel asks, standing over him, “You look off-color”.

He stumbles shakily onto his feet, pushing away her hands.

“I’m fine,” he stammers, trying to even his rapid breathing, “everything is OKAY”. She shoots him a concerned look but shrugs her shoulders. He exhales deeply and dusts the sand from his pants. 

Smoke rises from the burnt coals, his guitar lay nearby, its neck supported by a rock. He pockets his discarded handkerchief and picks up the empty can, beginning to pack everything away. 

Spinel turns to the ocean, the moon bobbing on the surface of the sea. A creature titters by, bumping into her boot. She looks down at it. It carried a much-too-small shell on its back, its legs clearly straining to move beneath it. She summons a pale conch and places it gingerly on the ground, watching the creature hurriedly clamber towards it.

“That’s everything,” Steven announces, stealing her attention away, “we should probably be heading back now”. She nods and follows along behind him.

____________________________________

The bathroom door creaks open; Steven steps out, armed in a loose, cotton T-shirt and gray sweatpants. Spinel sits patiently in the living room, staring up at the picture frames. He avoids her eyes, noticing a platter of food left on the counter. 

He takes the plate and places it into the microwave to heat, glancing back every now and again to the gem sat on the couch. 

_[ I need to say something] _

The appliance buzzes, chicken and rice rotates mechanically within.

_ [I can’t just ignore her] _

A _ ding! _rings out, the counter hits zero.

[_ Talk. to. Her.] _

Steven grabs the hot plate out of the microwave, digging through a drawer for a fork. He walks over to Spinel, biting his lip.

“Hey,” he says, she looks at him expectantly. 

_[Do it] _

“Uh, I just wanted to say,” he continues, scratching at the back of his head; her eyes bore into him, drilling into his soul, “...good night.” She watches him carefully ascend the stairs and clamber into his room, the door closing shut behind him.

______________________________

She’s alone in the darkness.

A figure shuffles over to the couch and falls asleep in her arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw this isnt beta'd so if there's any typos/grammatical mistakes oops

**Author's Note:**

> next chapter should be up soon! featuring our favorite gem gang gang and class clown


End file.
